Eyes Closed
by MusicallyBurned
Summary: Prequel to 'Eyes Open' picking up immediately after 'Guilty As Charged'. Addresses Sam, Fiona and Madeline dealing with Michael being injured.  Mostly from Sam's POV, but Fi and Madeline sometimes as well.
1. Chapter 1

"Time to go, Fi." Sam said as he smacked the legs of his rifle down. Barrett and Vaughn's men were firing on each other and Barrett's soldiers were slowly making their way towards Sam and Fi's position in search of cover.

Fi didn't need to be told twice, she took a sweeping look to where Jesse had fired from and noticed that he had already disappeared, probably made his way to his vehicle while Sam and Fi were distracted by Michael.

"We have to find Michael." Fiona said as they tossed their guns into the trunk and quickly got into the car. Sam was already nodding and booting up the laptop in the front seat when she got in.

"Let's GO Sam." She snapped when he didn't move.

"Just a sec, Fi. Mikey had me install a tracker in his phone this morning, I guess he figured something like this might happen."

Fiona looked at Sam and for a second flashed angry that there was a part of the plan she wasn't let in on. The feeling turning into concern she asked Sam, "Do you have him?"

Sam turned the laptop around so Fiona could see the blip on the screen, not three blocks from where they sat. It was stationary.

"It's not moving, Sam." Fi said quietly, unable to help the fear creeping into her voice.

"Barrett might have had Mike toss his phone." Sam answered hopefully, starting the car. He glanced over at Fi, neither of them wanting to voice the other option.

Sam stepped on the gas and took them on a side road away from the shootout that was still going on. They could hear the sound of gunfire getting further away with the windows down.

"Turn here," Fi instructed motioning left to another side road. She had the laptop open on her knees and was intently watching the stationary blip indicating Michael's cell phone, willing it with her mind to move, even just the slightest bit.

Sam, meanwhile, thought of Mike, seeing over and over again in his mind's eye the image of his friend falling to his knees, blood pouring out of his chest. He tried repeatedly to wipe the scene from his mind, but part of him wouldn't let it go. Having seen similar incidents in the field, he knew that the chances of this turning out well were slim. Jesse was a good marksman but that was a dangerous shot. Michael would need medical help as soon as possible after taking a shot like that.

"There!" Fi pointed, snapping Sam out of his thoughts. Across an empty parking lot sat a black SUV turned upside down. The driver's side faced them and they could both see a figure in the driver's seat hanging upside down by the seatbelt.

Sam stopped the charger just short of the SUV and had the door open before the car had even finished moving, one leg out the door as he slammed the Charger into park. He saw it was Barrett in the driver's seat, trying not to think that Barrett went into this crash healthy and he was obviously dead.

"Mike, Mikey!" He called as he ran up the side of the vehicle, Fiona on his heels crunching through shattered glass and plastic. Breaching the back end of the vehicle, Sam saw him first, lying unconscious on the ground, eyes closed, in a pool of blood. For a split second his legs stopped working and he paused, Fiona nearly running straight into him.

"Mike." Sam breathed, picking up his feet again and taking the last steps toward his friend.

Fiona waited at the corner of the SUV, unable to make her feet continue. "Sam," she whispered, tears starting at the sight of the man she loved. She knew he couldn't have survived. A wound like that, that much blood and a car accident, "He's gone."


	2. Chapter 2

_Fiona waited at the corner of the SUV, unable to make her feet continue. "Sam," she whispered, tears starting at the sight of the man she loved. She knew he couldn't have survived. A wound like that, that much blood and a car accident, "He's gone."_

Sam stopped next to Michael and hesitated, knowing that there was almost no hope. He dropped to his knees heavily, already grieving his best friend. Sam slowly, reluctantly held out his hand and pushed down on Michael's neck, not expecting to feel anything push back at him. At first contact, he noticed Michael's skin was clammy, wet from sweat mixed with blood. Sam noticed the way his body lay, half out of the SUV but also a bloody hand print on the door. He had been conscious here. He thought for a second of the horror of Michael bleeding out here, dying alone.

"Aw, Mikey." Sam whispered to himself, shaking his head. Then, when he was about to move his hand, Sam felt it. Faint, but unmistakable.

"He's still here!" Sam yelled, unable to contain his happiness, "He's got a pulse!"

"Oh my God, Sam." Fiona moved over next to them now also leaning over Michael.

"Good job, Mikey, good job." Sam said quietly while he moved his hand from Mike's neck to his chest. "I need something to help the bleeding. Fi, I have a change of clothes in the Charger, grab me a shirt and the medical kit in the trunk."

Fi glanced at Sam ready to protest leaving Michael's side. Logic took over, Sam was a trained field medic. She stood up and ran toward the Charger while Sam, keeping one hand on the front of Michael's chest wound, used the other to have a quick look at the mess on his head. Reaching his hand to Mike's forehead, Sam noticed his own hand was shaking. He saw the head wound wasn't terrible and then moved his fingers back to Michael's neck, again reassuring himself that there was indeed a pulse. Out of Fi's eyes, Sam let his head hang for a moment, breathing deeply and letting his tangled emotions of relief, worry and sadness take him temporarily. He knew this wasn't over and the next hours would be crucial for Michael's survival, but he wasn't ready to let him go quite yet, especially not alone in some empty parking lot. Sam heard the trunk to the Charger slam and steeled himself to be strong.

"I'm going to get you out of this, brother," He whispered to Michael, "You're not gonna die today."

Fiona returned and knelt down on the opposite side of Michael to Sam. Pulling his knife out of his pocket, Sam quickly cut down the centre of Michael's shirt and tossed it open. A chill went down his spine at the sound of the blood-soaked shirt hitting the pavement. He returned his hand to the bullet wound trying to staunch the bleeding. Sam silently marveled at the amount of blood that had been lost. It looked like such a huge amount outside of a body.

"Pass me the gauze out of the bag, all of it." Sam instructed to Fiona, who had taken up residence holding Michael's right hand. She dug through the medical bag and handed it across to Sam, trying not to look at the blood pooling on Michael's stomach.

"What are you doing, Sam? We need to get him to a hospital."

"I know that, Fi," Sam snapped, "But if I don't do something about the bleeding, he won't even make it that far."

Somewhat taken aback by Sam's harsh words, Fiona snapped back "If we call an ambulance..." but Sam this time cut her off.

"It would take them 15 minutes to get here, and then we'd have to answer questions and I don't feel like explaining why we're here with a dead Barrett while Mikey bleeds to death."

Sam looked up to Fiona and then turned back to Michael with a handful of gauze. He gently touched it onto the wound, the blood adhering it to Michael's chest temporarily.

"I need to turn him over, it's a through and trough and chances are the back is worse than the front." Sam looked down at Michael again and instructed Fiona, "Cut that shirt in half, we'll lay him on half of it and use the other half for pressure. Toward you on three."

Fiona used the scissors from the medical bag to cut Sam's Hawaiian down the centre and she carefully lay down half of it where Michael would land. Sam put his hands on Michael's side and motioned for Fiona to do the same.

"One, two, THREE." Sam pushed Michael up onto his good side.

As soon as they moved his body, Michael woke up with a gasp which quickly turned into a groan. Head pounding, pain resonating everywhere, Michael thought he saw the blurred image of Fiona, although, he admitted to himself that he was probably seeing things that weren't there. He heard voices, urgent sounding voices, but they sounded far away, like they were in a large, echoey space and he was on the other side.

"Back, back this way." Sam urged. He wanted Mike on his back at least to make sure he could see them wasn't going to fight them.

"Mikey," Sam leaned over Michael's head, trying to get him to focus, "Can you hear me?"

Pain was etched into Michael's features and his eyes were barely open but he knew he was in a bad situation, he remembered Barrett dead, and the case. He had to get the case, but he had to get out of this situation, someone had him.

"No." Michael groaned.

"No, you can't hear me? Then how do you know what I was asking, Mikey?" Sam answered with a half smile.

Not hearing Sam and still lost in his own world, Michael was only thinking about the case, getting the intel back. In a flash, mustering his energy, Michael ripped his arm away from what was holding it and rolled sideways to attempt to free himself. Instantly, the pain was so intense he couldn't control his actions. He fell back and arched his back up off the pavement while letting out a strangled cry.

"No." Michael moaned again.

Sam leaned in, grabbing Michael by the sides of his head, trying to get him to open his eyes or focus long enough to see that it was him and stop fighting them. The last thing he wanted was Michael to make his injuries worse. Sam grimaced thinking he might have to simply knock Michael back out so he didn't do anything to make it worse but Sam feared that he might not wake up again.

Michael felt the hands grab the sides of his face. He couldn't hide the grimace of the pain as the strong fingers touched where he had hit his head. Michael reached up and grabbed the wrists attached to the hands and tried to pull them off, but he knew he wasn't strong enough to get away. He groaned slightly and then he heard a voice, it sounded concerned. Michael tried to focus on it to bring himself out of the haze. He knew from experience that if he could just find one thing to pull him back and focus on it, he might be able to clear his head a little bit.

Still trying to shake off the strong hands holding his head, Michael managed to focus on the voice. It sounded familiar; the concern had changed now, to fear. He could hear it calling his name, but not what he was used to being called.

"Mikey, come on Mikey, hear me. Right here brother."

_Brother,_ Michael thought, _that could only be one person, but it can't possibly be._

'Sssam.' Michael mumbled, blood bubbling around his teeth. He stopped fighting and dropped his bad arm back down. Eyes still barely open, Michael leaned his head back to try and get a look. The centre haze of his vision cleared, still leaving darkness on the edges. He could just barely see and make out the unmistakeable form of Sam looming over him.

Now that Michael had stopped fighting, Sam moved one hand back to Michael's shoulder but put the other on his cheek, trying to help focus him.

"Mikey, can you see me? You're safe now, we're here for you. We're gonna get you some help."

"Fi." Michael's eyes fluttered open and then closed again as he turned his head toward what he thought before was her, realizing now that it was. Fiona had taken his hand again and Sam watched quietly realizing that Michael might be feeling the need to say goodbye.

"I'm here, Michael." She reassured him, putting her free hand on his arm.

Michael slowly let his head fall back to centre.

"Case, the case." He mumbled with surprising coherency.

"Mikey?" Sam questioned warily.

"Need... case..." his speech was getting thick and heavy. "Barrett." He slurred, closing his eyes again. Michael tried to move again, he had to find the case. He knew that he was not doing well, in fact, he felt worse than he could recall feeling in his long history of field wounds, but he needed to get the case, he needed that intel in the right hands.

Sam could see that Michael was determined to get a hold of the case and he knew that he was stubborn enough not to give up.

"Okay, Mikey, Fi will look for it." He glanced at her and she shot a death glare back at Sam. Sam shrugged and nodded her on. "That way you don't have to worry about the case, Mike, I need to get you patched up and we need to get the heck outta here."

Reluctantly, Fiona got up and went over to the SUV to search it while Sam concentrated on patching Michael up. Sam reached over to his medical bag and pulled it across to his side of Michael.

"Mike, I'm gonna get you to a hospital, we're gonna get you fixed up. Just a couple of minutes, Mikey."

"Case, Barrett." Michael mumbled.

"We're on it, Mikey." Sam answered, worried about Michael's fixation but also his slurred and rapidly weakening speech. "Just keep it cool, okay?"

Michael reached his uninjured arm toward the SUV and Barrett.

"Not happening, Mike." Sam pushed the good side back down and leaned in over Michael again. Sam put his hand on Mike's cheek and pushed his head up forcing Michael to look at him and nothing else. "I need you to talk to me, focus Mikey."

Michael tried to see Sam but he couldn't make his eyes focus. The pain radiated from his shoulder and also his head. As another layer of consciousness set in, he realized that he must have hit it hard enough to give himself a pretty decent concussion not to mention his gunshot wound. He felt cold and figured that shock was setting in. Sam was talking to him, trying to get him to answer but Michael still only wanted one thing. He wanted the case back from Barrett.

"Mike, I gotta turn you over, I need to check the exit wound. This is gonna hurt Mikey, real bad." Not knowing if Michael understood him or could even hear him right now, Sam had no choice but to get moving. He needed to get Michael out of here.

Sam again grabbed Michael around the middle and prepared to turn him over. He noticed Michael's torso was cold, he needed to stop the bleeding. Sam pulled Michael up and with the movement, Michael let out a yell. Sam saw Fiona move to see him out of the corner of his eye. Hearing Michael in so much pain caused Sam to nearly choke up. He wasn't used to seeing Michael weak and injured this badly. Usually Michael went on, pretending everything was alright. Even though Sam could often see the pain in his eyes after a particularly gruelling and physical operation.

Sam cut the back side of Michael's shirt to get a better look at the exit wound. He was right, it was larger and it was still pushing blood. Michael was now mumbling incoherently. Sam heard words like "Let me go." And realized that Michael had sunk back into his own world and he thought he was being held captive.

"Hang on Mikey, I gotta put something on this." Sam reached into the bag pulling out some coagulant hoping to help. He poured it freely on Michael's back which caused Michael to writhe in pain, pulling his head back. "I'm sorry Mike, it had to be done." Sam tried to console, putting his hand on Michael's bare back. Next he grabbed a handful of gauze and touched it to the wound.

"Help me, Sam!" Michael cried, the strongest words Sam had heard yet. Sam's heart sank realizing that he thought someone was holding him and was calling out to Sam for rescue.

Sam rolled Michael onto his back again and quickly poured the rest of the coagulant package onto the front side of Michael's wound. Michael took a sharp breath and pulled up from the pavement.

"No, no more." He slurred. Unexpectedly, Michael reached up with is good arm toward Sam and got a hold of his wrist. The hold wasn't strong but Sam let Michael hold on letting him think he could control something in this situation. Sam used his free arm to grab some more gauze and he lightly touched it to the hole in his friend's chest.

"Okay, Mikey, it's over for now, brother." Michael's grip on Sam's arm let go and his hand fell lifelessly to the pavement.

_A/N: This is my first fic ever, but I wanted to write something to put in that gap between the two episodes. I have a bunch already written so if there's an audience for it, I'll keep posting. Thanks for reading, hope it's alright._


	3. Chapter 3

_"Okay, Mikey, it's over for now, brother." Michael's grip on Sam's arm let go and his hand fell lifelessly to the pavement._

"Mike?" Sam quickly put his hand back to Michael's neck taking a pulse yet again. He sighed with relief to find it still there.

Fiona returned from Barrett's SUV empty handed, "There's no case there. Someone must have taken it." Sam nodded. "How's he doing, Sam?"

"I've slowed the bleeding for now, Fi, but he's out and going into shock. We need to get him to a hospital like, yesterday. You drive."

Having no choice, Sam leaned over and put his arm under Michael's legs and lifted him off the ground, struggling to stand under his weight. Fiona led the march to the Charger and opened the passenger door. She turned once the seat was pulled forward so Sam could load the thankfully unconscious Michael into the back.

"Geez, Mike's gotta ease up on the weights, if he were any heavier I don't think I'd be able to carry him."

"Or maybe someone else should be using the weights." Fiona answered watching Sam carefully put Michael down in the back seat. Sam crawled in and set Michael's legs on him while he started to yell,

"Hey now, I'm reti-" Fiona slammed the passenger door on Sam's protests and went around to the other side of the car, getting in.

"Mount Saini, Fi, and quick." Sam looked worriedly over at Michael. Fiona took a glance in the rear view and stepped on the gas, spinning out the back end of the Charger and throwing Sam and Michael in the back seat.

"Easy, Fi." Sam leaned over and checked Michael's pulse again, still not trusting that he would continue to breathe on his own. "Are you sure that case wasn't there? Mike sure wanted it back."

"I'm sure, Sam, I searched the whole car and surroundings. It's gone."

Sam sighed. "Well, we'll have to worry about that later. I wonder what Barrett told Mikey about the bible."

"We'll have to ask Michael." Fiona said, glancing worriedly in the rear-view mirror.

Sam looked to Michael, "Oh crap."

"What's going on, Sam?"

Sam had crawled up closer to Michael's face in the small confines of the Charger. "How far out are we?"

"Couple of minutes, why Sam?" Fiona asked.

"The shock's getting worse, he's getting a little blue back here."

"What?" Fiona snapped and turned around. "What do you mean blue?"

"Fi, ROAD!" Sam yelled pointing ahead. Fiona turned back quickly and saw a semi coming their direction. She wrenched the wheel right and they veered back through their lane and onto the grass. The motion tossed both Sam and Michael, Michael smacking his head again, this time on the inside of the car.

Michael gasped and felt motion, he was in a vehicle, that much he could tell. He felt cold, his teeth started to chatter. Then he felt it, a violent shove from his stomach. The motion was causing him nausea. He barely had time to process that he'd never been motion sick before when he felt the bile rising and he knew he was going to be sick.

When Fiona swerved, Sam managed not to fall on Michael but heard him groan and saw him breathe in sharply.

"You drive, I'll deal with Mike!" Sam yelled from the back. He steadied himself and saw Michael's teeth chattering, another ominous sign of shock. Sam clambered to the front passenger seat to reach for Michael's jacket and just got to it when he heard him. Turning, Sam saw Michael was choking up blood.

"Dammit, Mikey." Sam grabbed the jacket and pulled Michael up onto his side. Throwing the jacket over his bare torso, Sam looked up again out the window.

"There, Fi, there's the hospital!"

"I see it, Sam." Fiona answered, tears now freely falling out of fear and worry.

"Closest door, it doesn't matter." Sam knew that there weren't too many more symptoms of shock before it became fatal. Combined with the blood loss every second was getting him nearer to panic.

Fiona screeched the Charger to a halt in front of the emergency room doors.

"Go grab someone, anyone." Fiona took off at a run and Sam pushed the passenger door open. He positioned himself to carefully pull Michael back out of the car. Once he moved him, Sam's eyes were drawn to the white interior of the Charger, parts of it now bright red as well as the floor on the passenger side. Trying to move quickly but keep Michael still, Sam carried him toward the doors Fiona went through. Kicking them open with his foot, Sam stormed into the emergency room.

"HELP!" Sam yelled loud enough for everyone he could see to turn to him. "RIGHT NOW, I NEED A DOCTOR!"

_A/N: Thanks for reading and the great comments folks. I'll keep posting in bits here. I have quite a bit of story (roughly 20 Microsoft Word pages) and I keep going as the mood strikes me. I'm a little humbled by all the positive people, so thank you! :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Not a doctor, not any kind of medical person whatsoever. I watch [H]ouse, and took a first aid course. That's about it. lol. :)_

_"HELP!" Sam yelled loud enough for everyone he could see to turn to him. "RIGHT NOW, I NEED A DOCTOR!"_

Fiona was already on her way back down the hallway with an assortment of people in scrubs as well as someone pushing a gurney.

Sam dropped Michael down onto it and started talking. "Gunshot wound, through and trough to the upper left chest. Car accident. Massive blood loss, was conscious at the scene. Went into shock about 8 minutes ago. Probable concussion." Sam was walking next to the gurney holding Michael's arm as they made their way to a room. Fiona followed, marvelling at Sam's professionalism and medical jargon.

Doctors and nurses scurried around Michael and right away there were cables running from parts of his body onto various machines. A doctor asked for blood and called for a handful of tests. Fiona noticed that the heart monitor beeped steadily for a few seconds but then started to flat line. Sam, still standing next to Michael, turned on the doctor, "Doc, you gotta help him." He turned back to Michael, resting his hand on Michael's head "Mike, come on, come back brother."

"Sir, you have to leave." A tall, gangly orderly took Sam's arm and tried to lead him away. Sam didn't move watching another doctor shove a tube down Michael's throat to breathe for him. A nurse took an oxygen bag and started pumping it at regular intervals.

"Need to cardiovert." A doctor instructed. A table was wheeled over with paddles on it.

"Now, sir." The orderly tried again to move Sam, this time pulling his arm.

"Get off me." Sam shoved him away and stood over Michael watching them work.

Fiona closed in and moved to Sam, putting her hand on his free arm. Saying nothing she slowly started to back up while leading Sam, tears in her eyes watching them work on Michael.

"Clear." The pair watched as the doctor put the paddles to Michael's chest and shocked him. Nothing changed on the monitors. The doctor put them back on Michael's chest and tried again. He shook his head in disapproval. Sam sighed heavily.

"Sam." Fiona whispered. He reached over and rested an arm on Fiona's shoulder. Surprisingly to both of them, she didn't fight him.

"Come on, Mikey." Sam muttered.

"One more." The doctor prepared again but before he could do it, the monitor started to beep a heart rate.

"Page surgery." The doctor ordered and looked at Michael's chest wound and then his head. "Take him up, now." The nurses moved and started to push Michael's gurney out the door, blood bags and IV medications with him. On the way by, Sam had a look at him. He still looked terribly pale but the blue tinge had gone from around his lips.

Sam looked back and the doctor was standing in front of him. "Who patched him up?" He asked Sam and Fiona.

"I did." Sam answered quietly.

"Good job, that work might just save his life."

The doctor followed the rest of them out the door leaving Sam and Fiona alone as the silence descended on the room. They both stared blankly ahead processing their thoughts while looking at where Michael had lain and the remnants around, bloody gauze, rags and his jacket.

A cleaner came in with a mop and Sam moved first to leave, Fiona following silently. He led them to the elevator checking the signage to see which floor surgery was on. When the elevator beeped and the doors opened, they both got inside and Sam pushed '6' to take them up. The doors closed and finally Sam spoke.

"He's a fighter, Fi." She stared ahead. "And, come on, Fi. It's Mikey. He's to damn stubborn to give up."

Fiona said nothing, only walked next to Sam as they made their way to the surgical waiting room.

They sat in the tiny room alone, across from each other. Sam was unable to sit still, getting up and walking around the room every few minutes, needing to be in action but not able to help.

Finally, after about half an hour, his head started to clear and he began thinking forward again, instead of being reactionary. Immediately, Sam realized something,

"Fi, we gotta call Maddie."


	5. Chapter 5

_"Fi, we gotta call Maddie."_

Fiona had pulled her knees up and put her feet on the chair she was sitting on. She looked blankly up at Sam and then nodded.

"I think it should be you, Fi." Sam stated. This time Fiona's expression changed, like she was actually seeing Sam instead of just staring at him.

"What?" She asked.

"We need to call Maddie, and I think it should be you. You're good with her, you have that woman bond thing going."

"I can't, Sam. I wouldn't know what to tell her."

"Just tell her to come down here, we can do the rest when she gets here." Sam held out his phone for her to take and she snapped it from his hand unhappily. Dialling the number from memory, she waited as the phone rang. After the third ring, Madeline's voice came on the other end.

"Hi Madeline." Fiona said, trying to keep calm and hold herself together.

"Hi Fiona, are you and Michael coming over for bridge club later? The girls have been asking about you two and I told them you'd come this week."

"Madeline, Michael's been hurt." Fiona paused and she jumped in.

"Where are you? What do you need me to bring?" Fiona mused for a second that this was the thing about Madeline, you never knew what type of reaction she would have. She was thankful that it was a helpful one this time.

"No, Sam and I are at Mount Saini hospital, come here."

"Fiona," Madeline started, "Is he okay?" But she already knew the answer.

"Just get here as soon as you can. We're in the surgical waiting room on the 6th floor." Fiona hung up, not able to take any more questions.

Sam crossed the room back over to Fiona and held out his hand to take the phone. He noticed that it was covered in blood. Michael's blood. He looked down at himself and realized that his hands weren't the only part of him that was bloody. It was all over his hands and arms, as well as his clothes. A lurch came over his stomach and he thought he was going to be sick.

"Sam?" Fiona asked, noticing his change when he held his hand out and seeing him look down and take in his own body. He had suddenly gone pale.

Sam needed to find a bathroom, and fast. He bolted from the room and down the hall, ignoring Fiona's questions, and found a washroom. Barging in, the door slammed on the wall but Sam didn't care. He went first for the sink turning on the hot water and running his hands underneath. The feeling in his stomach didn't improve watching the water turn bright red on the white porcelain and seeing it swirl down the drain. He thought of Michael, fighting for his life and needing this ever important red liquid that he was washing down the sink. Could he have done something different? Should he have taken out Jesse to save Michael? The past couple of hours came swirling back in front of him, his head started to spin and he grabbed onto the edge of the sink for support. He didn't know what he would do if Michael didn't make it. He was one of the only people in the world that still trusted him. The past couple of years together had really shown Sam what a good friend could be. He hadn't experienced that since he was too young to have anything to hide. Michael wasn't just a friend to Sam, he was a brother. _I would give my life for him_ Sam realized, _I would trade places right now._ Before he knew it, before he could stop it, he had tears in his eyes. _I should have done something._

The door to the washroom opened but Sam didn't move, he simply stared down at the sink, blood still on his arms.


	6. Chapter 6

_The door to the washroom opened but Sam didn't move, he simply stared down at the sink, blood still on his arms._

"Sam?" Fiona's voice echoed through the empty room. He turned his head to see her, she stood in the doorway watching him, a set of dark blue scrubs in her hand. "Thought you might want these, to change into." She crossed the room and put the scrubs on the sink next to Sam. Almost reading his mind, she told him, "You did everything you could, Sam. It's out of our hands now."

"I should have stopped Jesse from firing." Sam suggested, now standing up and turning on the tap again.

"And then Barrett's men would have taken Michael." Fiona pointed out simply. "They would have killed him for sure."

"We could have found him." Sam looked in the mirror and saw blood also on his face, along with his now bloodshot eyes. He went to work rinsing off his face.

"Someone as powerful as Barrett? We'd have never seen him again."

"Fine, then I should have done the exchange."

"Sam, Michael never would have allowed that and you know it."

Sam looked up at his reflection and suddenly slammed his fist into the mirror, pieces of it fell onto the floor and into the sink. "Dammit, Fi! There must have been something I could have done to help, to change this." He put his hands back onto the sides of the sink and looked down, now seeing pieces of glass sitting there as well as water dripping off the end of his nose.

Fiona had stepped back but remained calm, "Even if there was something we could have done, there's no changing it now. We just have to wait it out and hope."

Sam sighed realizing she was right. "Thanks, Fi." He mumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head. He grabbed the scrub shirt Fiona brought him and put it on. He looked down at his pants seeing blood from his thighs to his feet, pooled heavily at the knees when he had knelt next to Michael at the crash site. Fiona turned and left as he started to pull his pants off leaving him alone.

She wandered back to the waiting room. It had nearly been an hour since Michael went into surgery and they hadn't heard anything. She went to the vending machine and bought a coffee, realizing she probably wouldn't drink it anyway. By the time she had it, she turned and saw Sam coming back. His hair was wet, he had run his head under the tap to try and clean up for Maddy. She would be there any second.

"What do you want to tell Madeline?" Fiona asked.

"The truth." Sam answered. "But we'll have to come up with something different for the doctors and probably the police. There's no hiding a gunshot wound."

"Gunshot?" They heard her before they saw her, Madeline came rushing around the corner where Sam and Fiona stood. She took in the two of them, Sam freshly cleaned up, his eyes sad and Fiona who obviously had been crying. "What's going on? How is he?"

"Madddy, have a seat, we'll explain everything." Sam tried to comfort.

"Don't tell me what to do, Sam, just tell me how my son got shot!" She snapped. As an afterthought, she said quietly, "Oh God, Jesse found him, didn't he?"

"Well, yeah." Sam answered, "But it didn't go down like that. You see, Jesse was trying to help him, ah, we think."

"But he shot him."

"Yeah," Sam answered, "But the bad guys were going to get him, so it was better this way."

Madeline sat down, shaking her head. "This doesn't make any sense, Sam."

Fiona saw him coming before the others, a doctor was making his way to them, obviously just out of surgery, his mask hung below his chin. He looked grim. "Sam." Fiona said, Sam and Madeline turned to look at what she was seeing. Sam took a sharp breath watching the doctor approach.

_A/N: Sorry about the unintentional cliffhanger on the last one... it just was a good place to leave off. Sorry to mislead you guys. Hope you're enjoying, thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Fiona saw him coming before the others, a doctor was making his way to them, obviously just out of surgery, his mask hung below his chin. He looked grim. "Sam." Fiona said, Sam and Madeline turned to look at what she was seeing. Sam took a sharp breath watching the doctor approach._

* * *

"I'm Doctor Morrison, you're the next of kin for Mr. Michael Westen?" Madeline was on her feet, "I'm Michael's mother, and this is his... wife, Fiona, and his," She glanced at Sam, "His brother, Sam." Dr. Morrison stood for a second, deciding whether he should argue but let it go.

"Mr. Westen sustained a gunshot wound to his upper left chest, the bullet passed through his chest cavity only millimetres above his heart. It's a small miracle that the bullet didn't nick his heart, but there was severe damage to the arteries and vessels surrounding the heart."

Sam swallowed and let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Was?" he asked, "You mean he...?" Sam let the question go, not needing to complete it.

"Mr. Westen is alive, for now." Fiona, Madeline and Sam all showed relief at this statement, but Dr. Morrison continued, "He is in critical condition. We think we have managed to repair most of the damaged tissue around his heart, but we're not able to be certain at this point. The gunshot wound was extremely serious and the amount of blood that he had lost caused him severe shock. I can't impress upon you how important it was for the bleeding to be slowed before he was brought in. It undoubtedly saved his life and got him this far."

Sam looked down and Fiona watched him. Sam's decision at the scene had saved Michael. She had pressed for them to leave before that happened.

"He also has a severe level 3 concussion. He's been intubated and is not breathing on his own. We don't know yet if he will. The ER said he was conscious at the scene, which is a good sign. You were there, Mr, ah, Westen?" He directed his question at Sam.

"Call me Sam, and yes, he was, briefly."

"Was he confused? Was he able to articulate anything to you?"

"He was in and out, sometimes aware, other times not as much. He was awake for about 4 or 5 minutes."

"That's a good sign."

"Can we see him?" Fiona asked.

"The nurses are just doing post-op right now. He's in ICU room 624. You're welcome to wait outside until they're finished." The three of them nodded and followed the doctor down the hall. He stopped at the nurses station and pointed them down the hall. Finding 624, the three of them waited in the hall, Madeline taking up a chair and Sam and Fiona pacing aimlessly. Within minutes the door opened and three nurses exited, nodding at them outside. They left the door open and Madeline got up to go inside. Sam and Fiona didn't move to follow until she stopped in the doorway and turned to them,

"Well, are you coming?"

"We just thought you might one some, ah, alone time with him."

"Don't be stupid, Sam. You're family."

The three of them entered the darkened room where Michael lay. The only sound was the machines breathing for him and the steady beeping of the monitors hooked up to him. Sam looked at the numbers on the monitors, warily noting that they were not good. But he was alive and that alone was something. There were a virtual bouquet of IV bags and Sam wandered over to see what they were giving him. He saw a lot of pain meds as well as a full bag of blood and antibiotics.

Fiona and Madeline both stepped to Michael's unconscious form and neither of them seemed to want to touch him. Madeline's eyes were watering and she sat down at a chair at the foot of Michael's bed. Fiona pulled the other forward with her foot and sat down near his side. The doctors had dressed him in a gown and put a large gauze pad on his head, which had already seeped through with blood. He was cleaned up, the blood that before had trickled down his face and neck had been wiped off, although when Fiona looked closely she could still see the stains. He was covered in a perfectly folded blanket and his hands were placed on his stomach. If it weren't for the timed and automatic rise and fall of his chest from the machine breathing for him, Fiona would have sworn he was dead. She reached out to touch his cheek.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam watched closely to see if Michael might wake up on Fiona's touch. He saw her hand move to his cheek but when it landed there, nothing changed. Sam looked away. Fiona moved her hand from Michael's face to his lifeless hand. She took it in both of hers and sat back in the chair, staring at him and waiting for something to happen. The three of them sat in silence, Sam examining every inch of the room as his training taught him. Fiona and Madeline both fixated on Michael.

Within a few minutes, Dr. Morrison returned, he shuffled through the door and Sam, reflexes still at combat height, nearly drew his gun on him. Seeing it was the doctor, Sam backed up into the shadows and took his hand off the butt of his gun. It was hidden in the back of his scrub pants and he thought that his actions went unnoticed by Madeline and the doctor. Morrison nodded to Sam as he passed and went to Michael's side. Fiona withdrew her hand from Michael's and watched Morrison work.

"I'm just checking him out, I'd like to keep a closer eye on him than a usual post-op patient. He's certainly not out of the woods yet, the next few hours he will have to be monitored very closely." Morrison explained while he checked the gauze pad on Michael's head, then used his pen light to check his pupils. He shook his head slightly and continued working his way down Michael's body, checking the bandage on his chest moving his hands, checking his fingers and finally checking the reaction in his foot. He fished another gauze pad out of a nearby drawer and pulled the already soaked one off of Michael's forehead. Sam cringed seeing the stitched gash underneath, he quickly counted 9 stitches before the doctor managed to get the gauze replaced. He pulled Michael's chart out, marked a few things on it and left the room saying "Make yourselves at home here. We'll be keeping him here until he's stable enough to be moved out of ICU. Also, I'll be back to talk about what happened after I've done my rounds." He left and closed the door.

Sam sighed heavily, "We need to think about what we're going to say, the truth will just sound crazy and maybe get us all in trouble when he has to go to the cops, not to mention Vaughn and Barrett's men."

"That's something I'd like to hear." Madeline piped up from the foot of Michael's bed. "You're not going to be able to get away with anything but the truth this time with me, Sam."

Sam nodded obediently, already not looking forward to that conversation. "For now, I'm telling the doctor it was a drive by while we were waiting to meet you, Fi. That at least explains the gunshot. Let's say it was by the old pier, it's secluded enough to have had something like that happen without any reports. Also, we can say a car rolled there without too many questions."

"And why can't we just tell them the truth?" Madeline demanded.

"Because, Maddy," Sam answered, "Right now, we don't know what's going to happen where this really did go down, and until we know the whole story, there's a chance the truth might get Mikey and the rest of us killed." Madeline gawked at Sam for a second but then let it go, not questioning him any further.

Sam stepped over to the end of Michael's bed and picked up his chart, wanting to see Michael's real status in the numbers. Taking a quick look down the chart, Sam backed into a chair in the corner. The information he was looking at was not good. Lost in his thoughts, Sam heard the door open and sprung to his feet, again going for his gun out of habit. He was around the corner out of view and Fiona turned, seeing it was Morrison. "Hello again, Doctor." Fiona greeted deliberately as a warning to Sam. Sam realized his nerves were shot after the days events. He hated to admit it but he really needed a drink and nap, even though it was not even 11 p.m. He was looking at a couple of long and trying days ahead.

"Can I see you outside?" He directed his question at Sam who obliged, getting up but taking Michael's chart with him. Once they were out in the hallway, Morrison asked Sam the question he knew was coming, "What happened to Mr. Westen?"

"Well," Sam began, "We were waiting down by the old pier for ah, Mrs. Westen, and these gang bangers drove by in a black SUV. There was a gun and I saw it too late, they fired and hit him. He drove into a cement divider and that's where I helped him."

"Hmm." Morrison looked at Sam, pondering him for a few seconds before saying, "After seeing Mr. Westen in surgery, scars indicating this was not the first gunshot wound he's sustained, I searched Michael Westen in our files and he came up, in Miami. But not as married, with a brother named Nathan but also with large holes in his file. Holes similar to those that I would have seen in files I worked, in the field." Sam looked at Morrison, unsure whether he could trust him completely. "I can have my Forces friends look up Mr. Westen, or the police could do it, along with relieving you of your weapon. The other option is you tell me as much truth as you can so that I can help your friend."


	9. Chapter 9

_(A/N: Again, don't forget, not a doctor... I won't keep posting this reminder as long as I don't get burned for stretching the medical stuff...lol)_

_"I can have my Forces friends look up Mr. Westen, or the police could do it, along with relieving you of your weapon. The other option is you tell me as much truth as you can so that I can help your friend."_

Sam sighed, if Morrison was Special Forces, Sam wanted to trust him. He realized he would have to, Morrison was calling Sam's bluff. "Sam Axe," Sam held out his hand, "Former SEAL. Mike's a good guy, he's been looking into some bad guys and stuff went south. I was supposed to be backing him up. Look, Doc, we need to keep Mike's name out of this as much as possible. Can we lay low on the reporting stuff for a couple of days until it all cools down? The guys who started this might want to finish it, if you get where I'm going."

Morrison sized Sam up and after a second took his outstretched hand, shaking it. "I was a spec op's medic for a couple of years before coming out here. There's only so much I can do without putting myself on the line. Tell me what you can."

Sam cautiously started to tell Morrison what he could, that Michael was involved in a transaction and he was shot and then taken by the bad guys. There was a car accident and Sam found him at the scene unconscious and bleeding. The men involved are big bad guys that might be trying to finish what they started. Thankfully, Morrison nodded and asked no more questions.

"Okay. For now, I'll take your word on this. If I get any indication that you guys are playing me though..."

Sam cut Morrison off, "I'm sure that you'll see the remnants of our little problem on the news soon." Morrison raised his eyebrows sceptically and Sam reassured him, "There were some pretty unexpected major players involved. And they came off worse than Mikey."

Morrison knew what that meant. He wouldn't be seeing them here in the OR. Sam pulled Mike's file up and flipped the first page over. "Says here you guys gave Mike 5 units of blood in surgery and he's currently working on another 5."

"You're not supposed to be looking through his file, Mr. Axe." Morrison made to grab the clipboard from Sam but Sam wouldn't let go.

"Call me Sam, sir. If you expect me to sit this one out and be a passenger while my best buddy needs me, you're nuts. I was a field medic too and I'm going to be watching you guys every step of the way on this one." It wasn't a threat, but Sam was serious.

Morrison thought for a second. He was taken aback and also impressed with Sam's loyalty to his friend. He didn't know the history between these two men, but it was obviously long and decorated. He was already bending rules by agreeing to keep Westen's name low for a few days and also by letting Axe and the woman in. Morrison sighed figuring there was no turning back now. "Yes, that's true. His blood volume was so low we are unsure as to how, exactly, that he survived. I have never worked on a patient that had lost such a large percentage of blood. He is obviously extremely healthy normally, his heart is almost inconceivably strong. It's no small miracle that he made it this far. His heart rate was so low that we simply don't know how it kept going. They cardioverted in the ER after it stopped, but it shouldn't have started again. There is no doubt that if he had lost even the slightest bit more, he would not have made it this far. Your timing saved him, Sam."

Even though Sam was there, at the scene, hearing how close it really was scared him all over again. He closed his eyes in exhaled trying to calm himself. It was in the past.

Morrison continued, "The most major concern now is of course brain injury. With his heart rate that low and that much blood loss, his brain is in a fragile state. Right now he's completely unresponsive and we're just not sure if he will be. We may not be able to extubate him, the chances of him breathing on his own again look, right now, to be extremely slim. He has a plethora of issues stemming from the low volume but also the severe concussion and shock. It's not good, Sam. Does he have a living will? DNR?"

Sam only stared at Morrison trying to comprehend what he was saying. Sam backed into the chair that Madeline had occupied earlier feeling that his legs might not hold him much longer. All the dangerous situations the two of them had been in, they'd never really talked about this kind of thing, Mike wasn't really good at this kind of thing. Sam looked up at Morrison, shrugging. "I don't really know. I don't think so."

Morrison nodded, "Well, then you need to start prepping his mother for the tough decision." Morrison paused and then said, "I have to go, I'm on for another couple of hours. We're keeping a very close eye on Mr. Westen, I'll be back soon." Morrison walked away leaving Sam devastated. He put Michael's chart down on the chair next to him, leaned forward and put his face in his hands. He pressed his fingertips into his eyes, willing them to stop leaking, stop the flow of tears that had started again. It was a testament to the length of the day he had had combined with his true feelings for Michael, but also his care for Madeline and, grudgingly, Fiona. He thought of them, not wanting them to have to deal with this. Sam understood more why Michael chose to work overseas. If something happened to him over there, Maddy would just get a letter, or a visit from a man in a suit. She wouldn't have to deal with this, choices like this after having tough choices all through her life about him. His personality was one you couldn't help but be drawn to when he chose to let people in, even a little, they latched on to him. What Sam was feeling now was the result of that. Sam took a deep breath to try and control himself, he released it slow and ragged. Wiping his eyes he moved his hands and turned to grab Michael's chart. He was shocked to see Fiona sitting next to him with the clipboard on her lap.

"It's that bad, Sam?" Fiona asked, searching his tired face for answers he didn't want to give. Sam only nodded, unable to vocalize it immediately. He sat back and stared forward for a few minutes while Fiona waited, surprisingly patient, for Sam to regain his composure.


	10. Chapter 10

_He sat back and stared forward for a few minutes while Fiona waited, surprisingly patient, for Sam to regain his composure._

A few minutes passed until finally Sam spoke. "He might not wake up, Fi." His gravelly baritone ragged, it felt worse to share the burden than it would have been to keep it to himself but he knew she would demand answers and he wasn't going to lie. "We need to tell Maddie." Sam pushed himself up onto shaky legs. Although he'd delivered news of dead or dying relatives before, he'd never done it with someone he cared about so much. There was no point in delaying it.

Fiona remained in her chair as Sam got up, she watched him blankly move into the room.

Sam entered the dark room unable to even look at Michael. He had such a history with him, he didn't want to have to remember him this way. Madeline looked at Sam coming towards her. Sam dropped Michael's chart down in the end of his bed again and then pulled a chair to a 90 degree angle to Madeline's. Sitting down he looked at her, took a shaky breath and started to talk. "Maddy, I just talked to the doctor. Right now, it's not looking too good." Sam reached out and took her hand. Fiona had followed Sam after a few seconds and she sat down in the chair on the other side of Madeline staring at Michael. Madeline said nothing but looked at Sam. He continued saying, "They're worried about his brain from a mix of things, blood loss and also lack of oxygen as well as a concussion."

Madeline got to the point, "What does that mean, Sam?"

He looked down at his hands. "Right now, it's not doing the important stuff, like breathing. They think..." He stopped. Sam saw a tear fall down onto his hands, his own. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to find his voice. "They think he might not wake up." Sam looked up at Madeline. She wanted to badly to be angry with Sam for allowing this to happen to her son, she wanted to yell, to tear up the room, but she knew it wouldn't help. She was surprised to see Sam with tears in his eyes. He was the emotional one out of the three of them even though he put up the gruff exterior, she'd seen men like him before. Madeline stood, leading Sam up by the hands. She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, she felt him do the same as she leaned into the blue scrubs he was wearing. After a few seconds she heard him sniff and pulled away. She looked up and put her hands on either side of his face, her own eyes brimming with tears. "We'll just have to wait and see." She said. Madeline moved her hands down, patted Sam on the shoulders and announced, "I need a cigarette." She grabbed her purse and left the room.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, Sam collapsed into the chair again and ran his hand through his hair. He looked to Fiona, overall, she seemed to be taking everything well. She had turned to face Michael's bed and she stared at him intently. Finally, Sam looked to Michael. He noticed the blood bag was empty. It was weird to see Michael so stationary; he had the illusion of never sitting still normally. Even if he was sitting, you could almost see his mind running at full speed behind his eyes. Assessing, making decisions, strategizing, even if there didn't appear to be anything to strategize about.

Finally, Fiona spoke again. "Sam."

"Yeah, Fi." Sam answered quietly.

"Thank you." She said, turning in her chair and craning her neck to look at him.

"For what?" Sam asked, surprised by her words.

"For doing what you did, to save him and get him this far."

Sam sighed heavily. "He'd have done it for me." Fiona smiled and turned back around. Sam watched as she leaned forward and took Michael's hand carefully in her own. She moved it, lifeless and heavy, to his side and continued to hold onto it. She positioned herself to get comfortable with her eyes on Michael waiting for something to change, for something to happen._Come on, Michael,_ she thought, _if you don't wake up on your own, I'll have to do it for you._She smiled to herself but let it fade as she realized there might not be anything she could do to wake him up this time. She felt a lump in her throat rise thinking about the last time she woke him up after an injury, when he first came to Miami and this portion of her life started. She admitted to herself that this had been a good amount of fun and that she didn't want it to end. She didn't want to give it up, and she wasn't going to give up on Michael this easily. She had originally come to Miami because she was still in love with him, she would stay now and see this through for the same reason. Even though she wasn't prepared to admit that to anyone but herself.

_A/N: Thanks for reading. You guys have been a great 'audience'. I plan on bringing this right up into 'Eyes Open' since there's a lot of interest. I've posted about 3/4 of what I've written so far, but I'm still working. Thanks again!_


	11. Chapter 11

_She had originally come to Miami because she was still in love with him, she would stay now and see this through for the same reason. Even though she wasn't prepared to admit that to anyone but herself._

Sam leaned back in his chair and let his head rest against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to clear his mind. He listened to the steady beep of Michael's monitors and allowed them to relax him, he started to think of sleep. It had been a while since he'd had real sleep visions, seeing bad things while he slept. He hated calling them 'nightmares', it sounded so childish. There were times in his career, though, that he had chosen to go without sleep instead of witnessing what he expected to see while he slept. His imagination would run away with the terrible things that he's lived through and it made everything so much worse. The memories of the last time crossed his mind before he started to drift off but he couldn't help himself from finally allowing sleep to take over.

Sam slept lightly and saw Michael, over and over, calling his name. Michael had been beaten terribly, he was helpless and being held by Barrett. In his dream, Sam could see Michael, but not help him. Barrett kept beating him and Michael would cry for help, all the while, Michael was hooked into a heart monitor which would increase and then decrease to nearly nothing. Finally, it stopped and flat lined, but Michael still called for Sam's help.

Sam woke with a start nearly jumping right out of his chair. He realized that the Michael flat lining in his dream was not just in his dream. The heart monitor that Sam had used to lull himself to sleep was no longer beeping at a steady pace. "Oh God." Sam launched himself to his feet, seeing Fiona asleep with one hand still holding Michael's. "Mikey!" Sam yelled, making a beeline for the door to the room and ignoring his foot, which had fallen asleep to painful pins and needles. He got close before he started screaming, "HELP! HELP US, NOW!" Sam saw nurses scattering from the station down the hall and he turned back to the room. Fiona was now awake as well and on her feet. "Sam, do something." Sam also noticed that Madeline was back from her cigarette break, she had stretched out on an empty bed in the same room but was sitting on the edge looking panic stricken.

Three nurses came rushing into the room one of them yelled, "He's coding! Page Morrison stat." Before the third nurse could turn, Morrison was already rushing into the room heading to Michael.

"Heard the commotion." He glanced at Sam and Sam realized that he heard him yelling. Morrison arrived at Michael's side and confirmed, "Heart's stopped." The first nurse wheeled over the cart with the paddles on it. Morrison listened to Michael's left lung, then right, the ventilator still breathing for him. "Decreased breath sounds on the left. Page the OR."

Sam watched closely realizing that this might be it. _Don't think like that._ He told himself, but he couldn't help it. His mouth dried and his knees wobbled watching Morrison. Nausea flooded over him but he swallowed hard trying to control his body.

Morrison had grabbed a small plastic tube and a blade from the nearby table. "What are you doing?" one of the nurses asked while watching.

"He won't make it to surgery. I need to relieve the pressure around his heart before it will beat again, his chest cavity has filled with blood." The nurses looked surprised but they didn't interfere.

Fiona had backed away and moved next to Madeline for some reason feeling the need to distance herself from Michael. Sam couldn't help but move closer, remembering his vow to keep his eyes on what was going on. One of the nurses went to them, "You need to leave. You're not going to want to be here for this."

"I need to stay with my son." Madeline argued, voice shaky but determined. Fiona, on the other hand, realized, "Michael wouldn't want us to see this."

Madeline sighed, and then nodded. The nurse led the two women out. She looked back at Sam who shook his head. He wasn't going anywhere. Sam stood where he could see Morrison from the foot of Michael's bed. He'd lifted up Michael's arm and was preparing to make an incision. Sam closed his eyes to steady himself and when he opened them again, Morrison was feeding a tube into the side of Michael's chest. He grabbed a bag and sealed it on the end of the tube. Sam watched in horror as the bag started to fill with blood.

"Paddles." Morrison called. The monitor still wailed a flatline. The nurse passed them to Morrison. "Charging." The machine beeped, "Clear." Morrison placed them on Michael and shocked him. Sam took a sharp breath and grabbed the chair nearby as Michael's body pulled from the table. "Nothing. Again." Morrison repeated the same pattern again, again, nothing.

"Doctor." One of the nurses said warningly.

Morrison shook his head, "No, again." The doctor, slightly more frantically snapped, "Clear." Again, he shocked Michael's chest. Again, there was no response. Morrison looked beaten, he glanced back to Sam who pleaded silently with his eyes, _One more time._

Morrison nodded, charged the paddles again. _Come on, Mikey. Don't do this._ Sam thought. _Please, brother, don't die on me._ Once again Michael was shocked, but this time a very slight rhythm continued. "Got a rhythm." Morrison said, clearly relieved.

"Come on, Mikey, pick it up. Come on, brother." Sam moved in next to Michael, now taking the hand that Fi had held so peacefully a short while ago. He squeezed it hard and for a split second thought he felt Michael squeeze back ever so slightly. "Mike?"

"Going down to surgery, he's blown out a blood vessel near his heart. We have to repair it." Sam stepped back and leaned on the wall, allowing them to wheel Michael out. _That was close_, Sam thought. _If it wasn't for Morrison, it'd be all over by now._ Sam felt his legs becoming wobbly again, he allowed them to give out and he slid down the wall to the floor. He looked down resting his forehead on his knees trying to control his own heart rate and also his flipping, churning stomach.


	12. Chapter 12

_If it wasn't for Morrison, it'd be all over by now. Sam felt his legs becoming wobbly again, he allowed them to give out and he slid down the wall to the floor. He looked down resting his forehead on his knees trying to control his own heart rate and also his flipping, churning stomach._

After a few minutes, he heard movement, feet entering the room, two people. He didn't move or look up but waited, still trying to master himself. "Sam?" He heard the voice of Madeline. "They took him back to surgery, what happened?"

Sam spoke to his knees, still not trusting himself to move. "He tore a vessel near his heart, it caused his chest to fill up with blood and his heart stopped." Sam was surprised at the flatness in his tone and also the sound of his own voice. It sounded like he hadn't spoken in weeks. "They got it beating again and he's alive for now." Sam finally felt that he could move his head safely and looked up. He saw Madeline standing next to Fi, who had tears falling over her cheeks.

"What now?" Madeline asked.

"We wait." Sam answered, nausea creeping in yet again and he leaned his head back on his knees. He needed a good sleep and realized that he hadn't eaten in hours. "What time is it, anyway?"

"About 4 am" Fiona answered, sitting down in the chair. Sam looked up at her and then back down. Madeline propped herself up on the empty bed yet again and they sat in silence.

About half an hour later, a nurse came into the room. Fiona saw her coming first, she was in scrubs and looked to have just come out of surgery. "Excuse me." She said as she entered. "You are here for Mr. Westen?" They all nodded and she continued, "Dr. Morrison wanted me to let you know that he's doing alright and it's going to be a couple of hours yet."

"Thank you." Fiona said. The nurse left.

"I'm going for a walk." Madeline announced grabbing her purse and sliding off the end of the bed. Fiona dug an extra cell phone out of her purse. "Take this." She held it out. "We'll call you if anything changes." Madeline took it with a knowing look and left the room.

With the spare bed vacated, Fiona took the opportunity to lie down. Sam still sat on the floor where he had landed after they took Michael away. He was surprisingly comfortable there and had certainly spent longer durations in worse places. Slowly he drifted off to sleep.

Sam came to slowly seeing a pair of white sandaled feet standing in front of him. The smell of cigarette smoke and coffee filled the room and for a split second he thought he was in a coffee shop before he realized Madeline was standing in front of him. She dropped a paper bag down in front of him and it landed heavily between his feet. "Breakfast." She said holding out a coffee. Sam looked up and took it from her, "Thanks Maddy. What time is it?"

"5:30" she answered. "Fi's asleep but I got her something too." She waved another bag but quietly sat down and opened up a third bag pulling out some kind of breakfast sandwich. Sam dug into his feeling somewhat rested but still anxious. It was at least warm and food. He quickly calculated that it had been a little less than 24 hours since he last ate. Sam unwrapped a greasy looking egg sandwich and tentatively took a bite, hoping that part of his nausea was due to not eating. Sure enough, he was able to keep the food down and he managed to eat a little over half of it before his stomach started to protest.

Sam looked to Michael's mother. He was surprised how well she was taking all of this. Michael was right, she could be wise when she needed to be. He silently mused that with the right training she would have made a great operative. Even though she and Michael seemed so different on the surface, they played a lot of the same games, only Michael did it for a living while Madeline did it, knowing or unknowingly, to get what she wanted. "Maddy." Sam called. He wanted to ask Madeline about this before Fi woke up. She looked at him. "Do you know if Mike has a will or any instructions?"

"What are you saying, Sam?" Madeline asked. Again, playing up not knowing but it was more like not wanting to know.

Sam grimaced, "Well, he's on a ventilator now and if he doesn't get better..." Sam let the words hang in the air. He couldn't finish the sentence.

"I'm not going to let them kill my son." Madeline snapped evenly.

Sam was surprised by her abruptness, "Do you know what he wanted, or wants?" Sam quickly corrected himself. He closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. It scared him to be thinking of Michael in the past tense.

Fiona's voice came out of the dark corner of the room, "He doesn't. Have a will I mean. We argued about it once." Sam smiled thinking what that argument must have been like.

"Hey, you're awake over there." Sam tried to sound light and leaned out to try and see Fiona. She sat up and Madeline handed her a bag of breakfast and the last coffee.

"Thank you, Madeline." Fiona said sweetly. Sam couldn't help but notice her expression when she opened the bag and saw the contents. It was pretty far from her favourite egg white omelette.

Sam slowly pulled himself up off the floor, he needed to take a walk and stretch. He hated hospitals and was already itching to get out of there, but he wasn't going to leave until Michael did. He wandered off to the washroom and splashed some water on his face and then out to the waiting area where he found a newspaper. He picked it up without really looking at it and then treaded around the floor sweeping for anything unusual. The people after Michael would be looking for him. He hoped that Morrison had kept his word to keep Michael out of the system. He made a mental note to ask again when Michael was out of surgery.


	13. Chapter 13

_The people after Michael would be looking for him. He silently hoped that Morrison had kept his word to keep Michael out of the system. He made a mental note to ask again when Michael was out of surgery_.

Sam swept the open areas of the floor, familiarizing himself with the surroundings and walking the layout a few times. It served a dual purpose for Sam, killing time until Michael was out of surgery and also taking his mind off of it just a little bit by allowing him to strategize and make plans in case they needed to get out of there in a hurry. Sam couldn't seem to come up with a decent idea of what to do with Michael if Barrett's or Vaughn's men found them. The best idea he had was sending Fi and Madeline out one of the route's he'd devised and standing his ground to protect Mike, no matter what. He would not leave him to be taken by any of the groups looking for him. He checked his watch and noticed that he'd been pacing for well over an hour, Michael had been in surgery for a little over three hours. Walking back Sam tried to decide if that was a good or bad sign.

Nearing the room when he turned the corner down the hall Sam saw a gurney being wheeled down. There were numerous IV bags hanging and the gurney was surrounded with nurses. Sam met it at the door to Michael's room. They made the turn and wheeled Michael in, Sam noticing that he looked paler and sicker than he had when he went in. Dr. Morrison was trailing behind looking tired but content. Sam stopped him at the door, eyebrows raised expecting an update.

Morrison pulled off his surgical hat and scratched the top of his head, fluffing his salt and pepper hair up at odd angles. "He made it, but it was touch and go for a while." Morrison sighed. "We repaired the torn vessels, it was very delicate work. When he first came in, they hadn't ruptured because his blood pressure was so low but they were already injured from the gunshot."

Sam continued to watch the doctor for signs of any projections as to what was going to happen. Morrison looked down, never a good sign. "So, Doc, how is he?" Sam asked.

Morrison again glanced at his shoes and then looked back to Sam. His eyes were sad, Sam dreaded what could be coming. "Right now it's not good. He pulled through but still isn't responding. His vitals are worse now, but we're trying to get his blood volume up. It's going to be a while before we know anything for sure."

Sam sighed. "Can we talk about his identity?" Morrison nodded and Sam continued, "We need to enter a different name into the system."

"I already did, I was just going to change his name on the chart when he crashed. His name for now is Michel Lanois, we can call him French, you guys can still call him Mike without the nurses wondering." Sam smiled at the thought of Mikey being what sounded like 'Michelle'.

"What about the nurses?" Sam asked.

Morrison shrugged, "I told them that admitting had the wrong name on the file. It happens occasionally. Nothing had been processed out for today yet and he came in too late yesterday for anything to go." Sam still looked anxious, but Morrison was confident. "Don't worry, the only way they're going to find him is if they storm the hospital and actually see him."

Sam nodded thinking that would have to do. He still didn't like how unprotected and in the open Michael was but he had no choice.

"I'm going home for a few hours, my shift ended a while ago but I had to finish up in surgery. I'm back on tonight, though and I'll leave instructions to keep a close eye on him."

"Thanks doc." Sam said. As Morrison turned, Sam remembered something, "Hey, right before you took him to surgery, after..." Sam paused.

"After he crashed?" Morrison helped.

"Yeah," Sam continued, "I had a hold of his hand and I swear I felt him squeeze back."

Morrison stood for a second, thinking. "I looked at his vitals and there was a brain activity spike when he came back. I could have been accounted for by the defibrillator, but that could be a good sign. If he responded to you then his brain could be functioning." For the first time, Morrison smiled. Nodding, he told Sam, "That's positive."

_A/N: Sorry about the delay... been a wild little while. I'll try and be more consistent. Thanks for the continued reviews. :)_


	14. Chapter 14

_"If he responded to you then his brain could be functioning." For the first time, Morrison smiled. Nodding, he told Sam, "That's positive."_

* * *

Morrison turned to leave and Sam headed into Michael's room feeling somewhat lighter, a sense of hope. He saw Madeline sitting in her same chair off at the foot of Michael's bed and Fiona had moved up again beside him, holding his hand and staring at his unconscious form. Sam's happiness dissipated at the sight of Michael looking so small and pale on the bed.

Sam pulled the third chair out of the corner and put it near Fiona's but against the wall with a view of the room and the door. Sitting down Madeline asked, "Did he tell you anything, Sam?"

Sam told the two of them about Michael's new pseudonym and what Morrison told him about the surgery. "There's a good sign, maybe." Sam leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "I thought I felt him react to me before they took him down to surgery. It could mean that his brain is okay, but he's just in a coma. We just have to wait and see."

Fiona looked at the numbers displayed on Michael's monitor and sighed. She sat back, still holding onto Michael's hand. The three of them sat in silence before out of the blue the sound of a shotgun cocking emerged from Fiona's things piled on the floor. Sam, nerves already shot, leapt to his feet, drawing his gun. Fiona stood, but only to go to the pile. She nonchalantly fished her phone out. Turning, she saw Sam standing there looking a mix of panic stricken and angry. "What, it's my new text message ringtone, pump action Reminton 870." She plopped back down in chair and started pressing buttons. Sam rolled his eyes and stuffed his gun back in the back of his pants. "Could ya think about changing that?"

"We have a bigger problem." She answered.

"What is it?" Madeline asked from the foot of Michael's bed. Fiona glanced back at her but spoke to Sam,

"Jesse wants to see me." She said quietly.

"Yeah, I'd like to see him too." Sam said, pulling his gun back out.

"Oh, come on Sam, you said it yourself. Jesse was trying to save Michael." Fiona argued.

"Since when have you ever been against shooting someone?" Sam asked, starting to heat up with anger and frustration.

"Sam, he saved Michael's life." Fiona stated.

Sam scoffed, "He may have _ended_ Mikey's life. We don't even know yet." Sam spat back.

Madeline stood up, "Stop it, both of you." She demanded staring them both down. Sam again tucked his gun away and looked defiantly from them to Michael. "Sam, if Fiona's telling the truth, which I don't know because no one has TOLD me anything yet, then it sounds like Jesse did this to help." Madeline paused for a second, looking to her son, "but it sure seems like an odd way to help."

Sam took a breath to calm himself and then thought about what he'd said. Obviously his tiredness and fear for Michael's life were leading him to jump to conclusions and react more from the heart and less from the head. "I'm sorry," Sam apologized. "Let's see the message."

Fiona turned her phone around to Sam and he read quietly aloud, "Fiona. Need to talk. Meet at Dolphin Mall food court. 90 minutes. Come alone." As he held the phone a 2nd message popped up on the screen, "Or I'll find you."

"Ah, Fi." Sam said warningly as he turned the phone back around to her. "That can't be a good sign."

Fiona read the message and sighed. "He's had lots of chances to kill me in the past, it looks like he's asking for forgiveness in his weird Jesse way."

"So it's a 'show up or I assume we're enemies' thing. I say let him be an enemy."

"Don't you think we have enough enemies?" Fiona asked. "I mean, really, Sam. I should go and find out what he wants."

"I don't know, Fi." Sam started. He didn't like the idea of Fiona putting herself in danger with Jesse but logic told him that Jesse wouldn't make a move in a crowded mall. He may be angry, but he still wouldn't take the chance of hurting innocents. Also, he reasoned, Fi could take care of herself.

"I don't need your permission, Sam." Fiona snapped.

Madeline sighed, "You know, I'm ready for some sleep in my own bed, Fiona, why don't you drive me home?" She stood and started gathering her things as if that settled it. "Sam, you have to promise me you'll call if anything changes." Madeline eyed him suspiciously as if she expected him to lie.

"I promise, Maddy." Sam wasn't going to cross Madeline, especially at a time like this.


	15. Chapter 15

_"I promise, Maddy." Sam wasn't going to cross Madeline, especially at a time like this._

* * *

Sam turned to Fiona, "Hey, can you stop by my place and pick up a change of clothes? Also, don't bring the Charger back here, it's too obvious. Put it in Maddy's garage and then she can bring it if it's urgent."

Madeline crossed the room over to Michael. She picked up his hand and gave it a squeeze and then brushed something invisible to the rest of them off of his face. "I'll be back soon, Michael." She said before turning and leaving the room.

Fiona looked to Sam and he followed Madeline out leaving Fiona alone with Michael.

Fiona moved over to where Michael lay and took his lifeless hand again. She sadly took in his unconscious form lying there, ventilator still breathing for him. She thought of the last time she had watched him sleep, he looked very similar now, quiet. She enjoyed watching him sleep, the stillness that he didn't usually have. Now, though, it made her uneasy. She stared at his face and wished his eyes to open, to see the steel blue look at her, a real smile that he so rarely conveyed. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek. As she backed away, she flicked his ear, something she would sometimes to do wake him up while they slept. Nothing happened this time and she sat back watching him for another few seconds before she let go of his hand and go up to leave.

When she left the room she passed Sam and motioned to Madeline to go with her. The two of them left Sam standing alone looking exhausted and sad in his blue scrubs.

Sam turned and trudged back into Michael's room. He sat in the chair Fiona had occupied and grabbed the remote from the bedside table and pulled the other chair nearer so he could rest his feet on it. Glancing over at Michael he shook his head. There were so many terrible people out there and so many good things that Michael had done, he didn't deserve this. There were surely people in the world that deserved much worse than this, but Michael was always willing to help those who needed it, sometimes with some arm twisting, sure, but he would always try and do what was right.

Sam sighed and turned on the TV and finding some news. Not surprisingly, the press was already all over the death of Barrett and trying to guess what exactly went on. Sam sat back and watched the story developing thinking that this was a man that deserved what he got.


	16. Chapter 16

_Sam sat back and watched the story developing._

* * *

Fiona and Madeline left the hospital and headed out to the Charger which was still parked in front of the building where Fiona had left it the previous night. She sighed as she pulled the new parking tickets off the wind shield, she had left the Charger in a loading zone in her haste. She wondered if maybe there were people looking for them and had been by and seen the car. She kicked herself for not thinking about coming down and moving it sooner, but there was nothing she could do now. If they were blown, they were blown. She had enough fire-power to deal with anything they could throw her way. Fiona opened the drivers door and slid in, waiting for Madeline to get in the other side. The door opened and Madeline put her hand on the seat to push it back into position. She stopped there and looked into the back seat, drawn by the dark crimson smeared on the white of the seats.

"Oh my God." She said quietly. "Is that all from..." She let the words trail off and Fiona turned around following her gaze. She could see where Michael and Sam had sat as well as where Michael had coughed up blood on the floor.

"It was very serious when we found him, Madeline." Fiona answered. "He was in really bad shape."

"Fiona, tell me what happened." Madeline tore her eyes away from the interior and forced herself to push the seat back. She sat down and Fiona started the car. She started to drive and talked the entire scenario through with Michael's mother, giving her all the details. She stopped, though, when she got to the part where they found Michael. She simply explained that her and Sam found him and brought him in to be treated. She could tell that Madeline was already worried and scared enough, she didn't need to know exactly how they had found Michael. Completing the story took most of the journey to Madeline's house. When they arrived there, Fiona pulled the Charger into the semi-converted garage and shut the door behind it. Quickly calling a cab, she left Madeline smoking in the kitchen and headed out to Sam's place packing him a bag and then to her place to do the same for her all the while compulsively checking her cell phone for an update from Sam.

Showered and changed, Fiona left her place and headed to the mall where Jesse wanted to meet. Driving, she worried about Michael but also asked herself why she felt that meeting Jesse was something she was willing to do. Why was she not angrier with him for shooting Michael and getting him into this situation? Why did she think that it was safe? She admitted the answer to herself, even though she wouldn't have admitted it to anyone aloud. She knew that Jesse had feelings for her. Truthfully, she was attracted to him. It hadn't been a secret, she'd even mentioned it to Michael the first time they saw him. Yes, she found him physically attractive, but he wasn't the right person for her in the long run. He was fun to be around but she wasn't going to give up on Michael, in any way. She knew deep down that Jesse would not hurt her, he had the chance at the loft, he had her at gunpoint, alone, and he couldn't kill her. He was meeting with her in a public place to tell her that it was safe, he wouldn't try anything there if he didn't kill her when they were alone when he was even more emotional.

Fiona got out of the cab at the mall and headed inside, carefully assessing the situation as she walked. The mall was busy, this was good. She arrived at the food court finding there to be a variety of people there, elderly and children, which was another thing guaranteeing her safety. Jesse may have been irrational at times but he wouldn't start a gunfight with a bunch of innocents around.

She saw him right away pretending to be shopping at a kiosk near the food court. She found a table with a good vantage point that was near some seniors, but not too close and sat down, waiting for him to approach.

* * *

_A/N: Hey guys, sorry it's been so long. I will do my best to post more frequently. I have more completed. Thanks for all the positive feedback and adds! :) _


	17. Chapter 17

_She saw him right away pretending to be shopping at a kiosk near the food court. She found a table with a good vantage point that was near some seniors, but not too close and sat down, waiting for him to approach._

* * *

He quietly slid into the chair across from Fiona. He was wearing a straw hat which looked rather odd on him, but helped hide his identity as well as a button up Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. Just another tourist in Miami.

"Barrett's dead." Jesse said, his tone flat, speaking to the table where he rested his arms.

"I know." Fiona answered.

"Did you...?" He asked her, eyebrows raised in an almost accusatory tone.

Fiona shook her head. "No. Something happened in the car. We think Michael caused an accident to try and get away. Barrett was killed in that."

Jesse nodded. "The bible?"

Fiona was aware that Jesse hadn't even asked about Michael yet. She decided to let him lead the conversation and use it to gauge his state at the moment.

"We don't know. One of Barrett's men may have picked it up."

"Michael didn't get it back?" He sounded surprised and looked up at her over the rim of his hat.

Fiona shook her head. She thought of Michael at the scene, trying to reacquire the bible, the case. She looked up to Jesse and met his eyes, knowing that her worry for him would show but not caring.

"Did it work?" When Fiona didn't respond, Jesse clarified, "What I did at the meet. You said 'try and get away', did he get away?"

Fiona paused before answering, "In a way, yes. You wounded Michael badly, it looks like he stopped Barrett from getting away but he wasn't strong enough to recover the case. Someone else did from what we were able to get from Michael."

Jesse asked, "What's the description of the person that took it, we should be out looking for him."

"We don't have it yet, we don't know what Michael saw, he wasn't able to tell us." Not able to hold out any longer, Fiona told Jesse, "It's not good, Jesse." Jesse looked puzzled. "Between what you did and the car accident, we don't know what's going happen."

"What's his status right now?" Jesse asked. He was interested but Fiona wouldn't go as far to say he was concerned.

"Critical. He had a pretty bad night, he's had 2 surgeries." Jesse sat back and raised his eyebrows, sighing.

"Is he going to make it?"

Fiona broke Jesse's stare and looked over his shoulder. She said nothing until Jesse broke her thoughts. "Fi?"

"We don't know yet." Fiona answered. Jesse's lack of caring for Michael after all they had been through finally bubbled to the surface. "How could you do that, Jesse? What were you thinking?"

Jesse looked taken aback. "I was trying to save him, Fiona. It was for his own good. If they had taken him, they would have taken him apart."

Fiona argued, "There had to be another way. You nearly killed him."

"Don't forget, you guys had weapons too. Did you have a better option?" Jesse challenged.

"It could have played out longer. We had more time. But you had to move before we had an opening. If there's one thing that you need to work on, Jesse, it's patience." Fiona sighed. It was true that Jesse's weakness as an agent has always been that he acted on impulse without thinking, she hoped that she hadn't just pushed him further away.

Jesse took the critique in stride and spoke in a dangerous, quiet tone. "Look, Fiona. He ruined my life. He. Burned. Me. I should have killed him before. If it works out that I saved his life, fine. If I didn't, well, I gave him a chance."

"You honestly don't care if he dies?" Fiona asked, anger in her voice. She looked at him, searching his eyes for the truth below the anger he was feeling. After a few seconds she could see, Jesse, although angry with Michael and not ready to forgive him, didn't want him dead, not really. Even if he told himself something different right now. She had seen people ready to kill before and he was not that person, even if he believed something else.


	18. Chapter 18

_After a few seconds she could see, Jesse, although angry with Michael and not ready to forgive him, didn't want him dead, not really. Even if he told himself something different right now. She had seen people ready to kill before and he was not that person, even if he believed something else._

* * *

Fiona didn't push Jesse on this information she had gathered, but filed away the information, she still believed that Jesse could be trusted.

Sighing after realizing that Jesse wasn't going to answer, she asked, "Why did you ask me here, Jesse?"

"I was just wanting to find out what really happened. It's spreading on the news wires now and this whole thing is about to blow up. Obviously, I didn't want to talk on the phone about it, you never know who might be listening."

"Well, you now know what I know. I think Michael knows what the bible meant to Barrett, it was obviously important for him to try and protect it the way he did and to come to Miami to deal for it. Vaughn wanted it and may now have it, but he probably doesn't know what it means either. We don't know and unless Michael can tell us, we might never know. If Michael does wake up, he might not remember. Right now they're worried about his brain and he's on a ventilator. He's completely unresponsive." Fiona looked up and Jesse and caught his eyes soft for a split second before they went back to passive. She was right, he did care.

"How did he end up with a brain injury?" Jesse asked, trying and failing to sound passive.

"Between the car accident and oxygen deprivation. His heart stopped when Sam and I got him to the hospital." Fiona stole another glance at her phone, sitting on the table between them. She was starting to get edgy and wanted to get back to the hospital to be with Michael.

"You guys found him and took him in? They're going to know that someone else was there, they'll track him and you'll be in danger."

Fiona shook her head. "We found a cooperative doctor and he is keeping Michael's actual name out of it all."

Jesse mused, "Lucky break." Fiona nodded.

"Look, Jesse, I have to go. I need to get back to the hospital." She checked her phone yet again and made to stand up. Jesse reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Tell me if there's anything I can do for you." He said.

"For now, just keep your ear to the ground about the case and the bible. See what you can find and let us know if you hear anything. I'll let you know if anything changes with Michael."

Jesse gave a short nod and let Fiona go. She stood, grabbed her purse and walked away leaving Jesse to sort through his own thoughts.

Fiona grabbed some fast food for her and Sam and then left the mall, hailing a cab to get back to the hospital. The short drive back her thoughts were filled with both Michael and Jesse, she rolled her eyes at how poorly men emote sometimes. If he had wanted Michael dead, he could have killed him. He chose to make it complex by injuring him instead. She didn't understand, but she wasn't complaining. He could have just as easily killed Michael.

When she arrived back at the hospital she paid the driver, pulled the bags of clothes and supplies out of the trunk and headed back up to Michael's room. She pushed the door open and Sam was inside, still awake and watching the news. When she came in the room, he looked at her and didn't need to say anything, there was no change. He looked tired and unsettled. Fiona handed him a bag from the burrito place she had stopped at. Sam opened it up and started pulling out food items.

Noticing the number of bags Fiona carried, he asked, "How much stuff do you need?" Waving his partially unwrapped burrito at the group of bags she was moving around, "It's not like we're going on vacation or something." She dropped one of the bags on the floor and the tell tale sound of heavy artillery came out of it. Sam nodded and then held out his hand for a bag he recognized as his own. She dropped it onto his outstretched arm and he nearly dropped it from the weight.

"Fi, how many toys did you bring with you?" Sam asked.

"I don't know how much Barrett or Vaughn's men know about where Michael is, I want to be ready if they show up."

Sam nodded, swallowing more of the food she had brought. He knew she was right. This was a dangerous situation and they did need to be ready, but they also needed to keep this stuff hidden from the hospital workers. The last thing they needed was a well-meaning nurse calling the cops.

Sam dug through his bag looking for a change of clothes. Fiona certainly packed enough stuff. He hoped that he wouldn't need this many changes of clothes and that they would all be out of there well before he used half of what was in that bag. He glanced to Michael and realized they probably would be there a while yet. He figured that was better than the other option of not needed the hosptial at all, like Barrett.


	19. Chapter 19

_He glanced to Michael and realized they probably would be there a while yet. He figured that was better than the other option of not needed the hosptial at all, like Barrett._

* * *

Sam settled on some light khakis and a blue button down, pulled them out of the bag and headed to the bathroom to change out of the scrubs that Fiona had given him. It seemed like weeks ago that they had shown up with Michael, but in reality it had only been a day and a half.

Realizing that the sinks just weren't going to cut it, Sam found himself searching for a shower. He hadn't realized until Fiona had reappeared clean and smelling fresh that he couldn't exactly be all sunshine and roses right now. Carrying his clothes over his shoulder, he wandered the floor doing a sweep, checking the windows and then snuck into a private room where the occupant was sleeping for use of their shower.

Sam pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of the scrubs and rested it on the sink, making sure it was on loud in case Fiona needed him. He quickly jumped in the shower grumbling quietly at the inconsistent temperature. He worked at his knees and elbows getting the last of the dirt and blood off, left the shower and quickly got dressed.

It felt better to be in his own clothes again, and he felt best once he'd secured his gun in his belt. Sam took a quick wander of the floor again, checking the space near the elevator, exits and waiting room for anything unusual. He found himself yet another newspaper in the waiting room, took it and headed back to Michael's room.

When he got back he found Fiona holding Michael's hand and watching the news with interest. The word on Barrett being killed was out and many talking heads were giving their thoughts on what might have happened. Each idea sounded as ludicrous as the next but Sam mused that if they even were close to the truth, no one would believe it anyway. The TV station was getting ready to cut to a couple of Senators to answer questions about what had happened with Barrett. Sam sat down in the dark room in the chair he had occupied before. He kept the paper in his hands but watched the TV instead.

A knocking and the door opening got both Sam and Fiona's attention. A nurse entered, smiling at them. "I need to check his vitals. Doctor Morrison will be back on in a few hours, but we're keeping track of him for now."

Sam asked, "Why haven't I seen you before?"

"Well sir," she answered, "last time I came in to check on Mr. Lanois you were sleeping. I didn't wake you." Sam sheepishly looked at the floor, remembering a time when there was no way he could have slept through anything. He also hoped that the nurse hadn't heard him mumbling in his sleep. Checking a glance at her, though, he figured that she had. She didn't quite meet his eyes. Sam had some pretty vivid and nasty dreams last time he had slept while FI\iona was away.

"How's he doing?" Fiona asked after sending a nasty look to Sam for not keeping guard.

"There hasn't been any change yet since his second surgery. He's still unresponsive. Maybe this time." She said positively, trying to sound upbeat.

The nurse walked over to the opposite side of Michael's bed, Fiona still holding his hand. She made some notes on his chart after checking the monitors and adjusted the tape holding his breathing tube in place. Next, she put the clipboard down and pulled her pen light from her pocket.

Sam watched the methodology sadly. There was no change, no movement from Michael. He crossed his arms and shifted in his chair uncomfortably. The nurse had moved on to checking Michael's pupils with her pen light. There was no reaction, no change. Fiona glanced back at Sam, meeting his eyes for a brief second. Sam sighed and adjusted himself again, unhappy with Michael not getting any better. These hours were critical and if Michael's brain was going to recover, they would know soon based on if he started to get better. The nurse shook her head and then changed a few of Michael's IV bags. She quietly left the room. Sam hung his head and sighed heavily. He hated hospitals.


End file.
